


Yesterday

by orphan_account



Category: VenturianTale
Genre: Gen, Pie, Very Minor, a little bit of cussing, but he means well, ghost is salty, here we go folks, id Like to apologize, just in case, minor cussing, paranormal investigators extraordinaire - Freeform, toast is drunk, venturiantale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-10-20 17:26:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Johnny Ghost wakes up with a raging headache (Or is it a hangover?) And no recollection of the past week.Luckily, he has a partner who’s willing to fill him in, and then get dragged along on whatever stupid plan he comes up with afterwards.





	1. Yesterday - Chapter One - Monday

The first thing that he registered as his eyes slowly slid open was the pounding in his head. That, accompanied by the stabs of pain every other pulse, occupied him for a while. He didn’t know how long exactly, he was too out of it.

The second thing was the light glaring through the gaps in the blinds. It was morning. It was late morning, or maybe early afternoon. He had slept in for too long either way.

The third thing he noticed, once he sat up and his eyes adjusted to the light, were the beer bottles sling around the room haphazardly. There was a new bullet hole in the wall by the closet. The smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air.

No, that wasn’t lingering, that was coming from somewhere. Someone. 

He got to his feet, stumbling as another spike of pain went through his frontal lobe. As he walked to the door- well, it wasn’t exactly walking, if he’s being completely honest. It was more of a shamble, or a shuffle. As he shuffled towards the door, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the desk.

His reflection grinned at him. “You look like shit.”

“Like you can say anything.” He snapped, rubbing his head. “I’m sure you feel just as bad as I do.”

“I feel just as bad as we do, JG.” His reflection said, the grin turning into a smirk. “And don’t worry, I don’t remember anything either.”

“I must’a hit my head pretty hard.” He grumbled as he walked away, ignoring the faces the reflection pulled until it was forced out of existence. 

He padded down the dark, narrow hallway and then emerged into the main part of the office. The room was brightly lit, the blinds and curtains open, a lamp glowing softly on a desk. 

Toast sat at the table, a cigarette dangling loosely from the fingers of one hand, gazing at the Post, Which was spread out across most of the wood. On one of the lesser used desks, a coffee maker pinged. A pot was ready.

Ghost made a small sound of relief and gratitude, and belonged for the coffee pot. “Toast, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Good morning to you too, sir.” Toast said, not looking up from the paper. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t actually remember anything from... most of last week.” Ghost said nonchalantly, pouring himself a mug of coffee and turning towards his partner. “Do you happen to know why I have such a large gap in my memory?”

“Yes. You were thrown through a wall.”

“That’s odd. Normally being thrown through a wall doesn’t hurt this much.”

“It was a brick wall, sir.”

“Ah.” Ghost took a sip of his coffee, and then pulled a chair over to the desk where Toast sat. “So. Fill me in.”

Toast took a drag, and then stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray beside him. “Well... How much do you remember? Are you having any memory lapses besides just short term?”

“Not that I can tell. I mean, it’s not like I would remember remembering something I don’t remember, Johnny.”

“Of course not, sir.” Toast folded up the paper neatly and pushed it aside, resting his elbows on the desk and his chin on his hands. “Let’s see... It all started last Monday...”


	2. Yesterday - Chapter Two - Last Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toast begins to tell Ghost what happened last week...

“I had decided to work late Sunday night, finishing up some overdue paperwork- don’t make that face, sir. If we didn’t do paperwork we wouldn't have a job- and I just... didn’t make it to my room before I fell asleep...”

A week ago, Johnny Toast woke up with a start, sitting up and whipping around blearily. “Wha- who goes there?”

“Good morning Johnny.” Ghost grinned. “Nice of you to join us in the land of the living.”

Toast blinked a couple of times, the world finally coming back into focus. He was sitting on the battered couch that they had put in front of one of the windows, next to the radio. The floor around him, actually, everywhere around him was covered in papers. He was covered in papers.

He picked up a page from on top of his lap and squinted at it. His normally neat cursive writing was nearly undecipherable. He was going to have to redo all of the paperwork he had ‘finished’. He groaned, and rubbed his temples.

“What time is it?” He asked, standing up.

“Eight AM, Monday, American Central Time, Common Era, 2019.” Ghost said, holding out a teacup and saucer. Toast took it, and took a sip. Perfect. 

“You’re oddly cheerful for before noon on a Monday morning.” Toast said. “What sort of stupidly dangerous job have you gotten for us now?”

“Johnny, we know each other too well.” Ghost said, sitting down at a desk and putting his feet up, sipping from his favorite coffee mug-

Present day Ghost interrupted Toast’s recollections. “Wait- This isn’t my favorite mug. This is the Star Wars one. Where’s my favorite mug?”

“Would you believe that it’s dirty currently?” Toast asked, not looking Ghost in the eyes.

“I always wash it right after I use it. There’s no way.”

Toast took a deep breath. “Sir, there’s really no good way- er, no easy way for me to say this...”

“Oh no, Johnny, don’t tell me-“ Ghost said, both hands wrapping around the mug protectively.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Toast said.

Ghost made a small squeaking sound and set the mug on the table, putting his face in his hands. “How? Why? It isn’t fair- it was too young to die! It didn’t deserve this!”

Toast patted his partner’s shoulder. “It’s alright sir. It astounds me how attached you get to inanimate objects, and I can’t say that I’ll ever understand that, but it’ll be alright.”

The was an awkward beat, and then Toast leaned back in his chair again. “Anyway. Back to a week ago...”

Last week, Ghost sat down at a desk and put his feet up on it, taking a sip from his favorite coffee mug. “Johnny, we know each other too well.”

“And yet we learn new things about each other every day, sir.” Toast said, stirring his tea absently.

Ghost made a face. “Alright, now we’re getting sappy, that’s enough. I did, in fact, find us a job! Since Spooker and Colon are out on their own little partner mission, I figured: what the hell? Let’s go out there!” He jumped to his feet, gesturing wildly with his mug and barely avoiding sloshing coffee everywhere. “It’ll be just like the old days again Johnny! Just you and me, horribly unprepared against a murderous spirit that’s going to try to eat our souls or throw us into other dimensions, barely scraping by alive! The thrill of the hunt! The glory of the win! The-“

“It’s the Acachallas, isn’t it.” Toast said dryly.

Ghost stopped flailing around and sighed. “Yeah. But they seem like they actually need the help. They also said that they’d actually pay us this time.”

“The last time we took a job that involved them, directly or indirectly-“

“I know what happened last time. It won’t happen again.”

“Because we’ll be better prepared and we’ll have learned from our past mistakes?” Toast asked, finishing his tea and standing up.

Ghost chuckled and stood up as well. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”


	3. Yesterday - Chapter Three - Last Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drive to the case, and an overview.

Toast tapped his fingers on the steering wheel anxiously as Ghost rustled his papers, muttering as he searched for- “AHA!”

Ghost sat up straighter in his seat. “Here it is: job description. ‘Papa Acachalla has recently purchased a warehouse that may or may not be filled with dangerous explosives and or wildlife.’”

Toast rolled his eyes. “Of course. Why are they calling us in?”

“Because,” Ghost continued. “There’s has been several sightings of ‘a misty sonofa-‘“ He made a face that conveyed exactly what word was there. “‘Wearin’ grey and white floatin’ around and scarin’ off all the gol’darn lettuce squirrels. My daughter refuses to go near the place.’ So. Any thoughts?”

“Probably just your standard Level Three Or Four, if it isn’t doing anything but appearing and scaring things. We shouldn’t have to worry too much.” Toast said, trying very hard to focus on the traffic and not the incessant rustling of papers. “What are you still looking for?”

“I thought there was-“ Ghost muttered under his breath, then he cleared his throat. “Oh, nothing. Just doing paperwork. Going over paperwork. You know, without paperwork we wouldn’t have a job.”

“Wise words, sir.” Toast said. “Is it this left or the next one?”

“Uh-“ Ghost fumbled around with the papers, hissing as one cut into his thumb. “Shhhh-ooooOoOt! Next one! Wait! No! This one!”

“Well, it’s too late now. We’ll have to do a loop and get back that way. Why would Acachalla buy a warehouse in town anyway? He lives a good half an hour out.” Toast said thoughtfully, stopping at a red light.

“I think it has something to do with the contents that aren’t deadly explosives or wild animals. Excuse me, dangerous, not deadly. Speaking of dangerous but not deadly, are you still on your learner’s permit or have you-“

“I got my full license before I-“ Toast cut himself off, staring off into the distance.

“Oh.” Ghost said, folding up the papers and putting them in the glovebox. Silence fell. It almost looked like Ghost was going to say something a few times, but no words came out.

Toast pulled over to the curb, putting the car in park. The warehouse looked over them. Ghost stepped out of the car and began to feed the parking meter quarters as Toast got the gear packs out of the trunk. 

“Ready to go, Johnny?” Ghost asked, staring at the boarded up personnel entrance of the warehouse.

“Papa Acachalla didn’t happen to give us the keys to this place so we didn’t have to break in, did he?” Toast asked.

“He did not.” Ghost said, already moving forward.


	4. Yesterday - Chapter Four - Last Monday

The interior of the warehouse was cold, dim, and dusty. Particles danced in the few rays of light that came through the boarded up windows. 

Ghost slowly pulled out his pistol. “Alright. Here we go...”

Toast also readied his weapon, following closely behind Ghost as they made their way into the middle of the warehouse. 

“Hello?” Ghost called. “My name is Johnny Ghost, Paranormal Investigator Extraordinaire, and this is my partner, Johnny Toast. Are there any spirits currently in this warehouse?”

There was a sound not unlike a soft sigh, and Toast felt a chill go down his spine. He slowly turned around, nudging Ghost with his elbow. “Sir...”

Ghost turned, bringing his pistol up to almost eye level. “Hello, spirit. What do you want?”

The ghost didn’t respond. It appeared to be a young human female, dressed in a flowing white and grey dress. She hovered a few feet above the ground, staring off into the distance and ignoring the ghost hunters, although she had responded to Ghost’s call.

Ghost frowned, and stepped closer. “I call upon the spirit inhabiting this place. Answer me!”

The spirit’s eyes flickered, and suddenly there was a shock wave of energy. The ghost floated higher now, her eyes glowing. The papers and miscellaneous clutter that lay on the floor of the warehouse slowly began to rise into the air.

She smiled slowly. “Johnny Ghost.”

Toast reached forward, grabbing Ghost’s arm and pulling him back, away from the specter. “Sir-“

“What do you want? Why are you here? How do you know me?” Ghost said, halfheartedly pulling against his partner’s grip.

She smiled again, and slowly floated back towards the ground. When her feet finally touched concrete, she stepped forward, moving slowly towards the investigators.

The things she was holding in the air began to spin slowly, and more began to lift from the ground. 

She drew closer and closer to the pair. Ghost stood up straighter, tightening his grip around the gun. Toast stepped fully in front of him, blocking him off. Ghost started to protest, but was cut off by the spirit stopping.

She was only a few inches away from them. She looked... almost angelic.

“Aimée sends her regards.” She whispered, and the warehouse exploded.


	5. Yesterday - Chapter Five - Early Last Tuesday

“Aimée, Aimée, Aimée!” Ghost ranted, pacing in furious circles. The ends of his hair were still smoking from the fireball that had incinerated most of the warehouse. “Why is it always Aimée?! And if it’s not her, it’s-“

“Don’t say his name, sir,” Toast said, walking over to the couch and flopping down on it, a nearly empty whisky bottle dangling from his hand. “It’s like the devil. If you say it, he comes and-“ He made a choking noise and slid his finger across his throat.

“Okay, valid, but you get my point! We haven’t had a case that was ‘a low level ghost’ that was actually a low level ghost in months!” Ghost said, the rate of his pacing increasing. “And, to top it all off, the warehouse was empty. Acachalla lied. Why would he lie? Why would he care what we thought was in there? Did he turn whatever was in there invisible? Did he move it? Whatever it was I hope it wasn’t important, cause it’s as crispy as-“

“Burnt toast?” Toast said helpfully, finishing off his bottle and pouting slightly at the dry bottom. 

“I was going to say a marshmallow that you dropped into the fire, but yeah.” Ghost said, running a hand through his hair. “Sure. Burnt toast.”

Toast sighed and tossed the empty bottle expertly into the glass recycling bin. “Would you grab me another, sir?”

“No. It’s a Monday night. You shouldn’t be drinking.” Ghost said, walking over to the couch and pushing Toast’s feet aside until he had a place to sit. 

Toast begrudgingly moved aside. “It’s actually Tuesday morning, sir, and we did just almost get burned to death.”

“And we didn’t even manage to make sure that that pyro was dead.” Ghost grumbled. “Once the sun’s up, I’m going to have some words with Acachalla.”

“You should really get some sleep, sir.” Toast said, sinking into the sofa cushions.

“I’ll go to sleep when you do.” Ghost replied, curling into a ball and raising his eyebrows, a small smile forming as Toast frowned.

Toast stood up, stretching, and walked over to the radio, flipping it on, then disappearing into the kitchen. Soft music began to float through the air as Toast returned, a new bottle of whisky in hand.

He sat on the couch, next to Ghost, who shot him a disapproving look, and then opened his whisky. Ghost smirked, and then grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch. “Looks like we’re in it for the long haul, Johnny

“Looks like it, sir.”


	6. Yesterday - Chapter 6 - Last Tuesday

“So, in order to get to Aimée, we need to find a ghost that would know her. Obviously.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And we only know one ghost personally that we didn’t end up banishing due to unfortunate circumstances that knows Aimée.”

“Maxwell.”

Ghost shuddered, but nodded. “Correct. And to find Maxwell, we need to go to his next of kin-“

“Papa Acachalla.” Todd finished, cupping his teacup between his hands and inhaling deeply. The circles under his eyes were darker than normal.

“Which works out well, seeing as we needed to talk to him about that whole fiasco yesterday.” Ghost said, running his hand through his hair and then letting his head fall to the desk with a dull thunk. 

There was a clink, and then the sound of something shattering. Toast inhaled abruptly, and nearly choked on his tea.

“What was that?” Ghost asked tiredly. 

“Ah, sir, it... um...” Toast winced. “That was your mug, sir.”

Ghost didn’t move for a long time, and then he slowly slid to the floor, making a sound that appeared to be halfway between a sigh and a sob.

Toast debated doing something, and then decided to just let him get it out of his system.

A little less than a week later, Ghost put his hands on his hips. “Excuse you??? Just get it out of his system?”

Toast sighed. “No offense meant, sir, but you do tend to sometimes get...” He waved his hands as he searched for the word. “Overdramatic.”

“...Yeah that’s fair.” Ghost said, sitting back. “In my defense, I’m emotionally devastated. I’ve had that mug since we started this entire operation!”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find a worthy replacement, sir.” Toast said. “Shall I continue?”

“Well I need to figure out what I’ve gotten myself into eventually.”

A little less than a week ago, Ghost lay on the floor underneath the table, staring blankly up into nothingness. 

“Johnny?” He said finally. 

“Yes, sir?” Toast said.

“I hate Tuesdays.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual, sir.”

Ghost sat up, barely avoiding hitting his head on the table, and got to his feet. “Alright, let’s set this chain reaction into motion so we can talk to Aimée and I can get a new mug.”


	7. Yesterday - Chapter Seven - Last Tuesday

The Acachalla’s house was floating a few feet above the ground. 

That wouldn’t have been particularly worrying if it wasn’t also upside down and there was a figure dangling from what must have been the porch when the house was upright.

Ghost’s mouth fell open at the sight. “Jesus Christ.” Toast just sighed and rubbed his temples.

There was a small commotion from the ground as the rest of the family came into view.

“Just let go, boy!” Papa Acachalla yelled, the sunlight glinting off his bald head. “You’ll be fine!”

At the same time, Gertrude cupped her hands around her mouth and told the figure the exact opposite: “Don’t let go Billy!”

They both glared at each other for a moment, and then turned back to the house. “It’ll be okay! We’re going to send somebody up to get you!” Gertrude yelled.

Billy’s response was mostly screaming.

Ghost got out of the car, his hand resting next to his holster. “Hello, uh, what exactly is going on here?”

Gertrude whirled around, clasping her hands together. “Oh, Mr. Ghost! What are you doing here?”

“We have a matter that we need to discuss with your husband- why is your son dangling from the roof?”

“That’s the porch, sir.” Toast said, locking the car and squinting up to where Billy dangled. “Is he alright?”

“He hasn’t fallen yet!” Papa said gruffly. “He’ll be fine. You didn’t answer my wife- what are you doing here?”

“I feel like there are more pressing issues at the moment.”

“This is a pressing issue. State your intentions, or get off my property!”

“We’re here to talk to you about a job.” Toast said quickly, before Ghost and Acachalla resorted to blows. “But first we’ll help you get your son back on the ground.”

“We will?” Ghost said.

“You will?” Acachalla asked.

“Oh thank you!” Gertrude said.

Acachalla scoffed, crossing his arms. “Well, good luck. If you find a way to flip the house back over and put it on the ground, you go ahead and do that too.”

“It would probably be safer to go up through the inside-“ Gertrude said, pointing towards the house. “You could get in through the attic window. It shouldn’t be locked.”

“Come on, sir.” Toast said, beginning to move forward. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Volunteering.” Ghost grumbled, but he followed his partner towards the attic window.


	8. Yesterday - Chapter Eight - Last Tuesday

“On three, sir.” Toast said, crouching and cupping his hands next to his knee. “One, two-“

“Three!” He stood up, falling into the wall of the Acachalla’s house and bringing his hands up, effectively throwing his partner into the air.

Ghost grunted as he left the solidishness of Toast’s grip, reaching up for the latch of the window- it was just barely-

His searching fingers managed to flip the latch. “Got it!” He cried as he began his less than graceful descent-

Directly into his partner’s arms. Toast beamed at him as he set him down. “Good job, sir!”

Ghost grinned back at him. “The job isn’t done yet! Let’s get that kid off the roof.”

“Porch.”

“Same difference! The goddamn house is upside down.” He gazed up at the window, which was now hanging slightly ajar. “Also, leaving the latch on the outside of a window while having the inside latch unlocked is a safety concern. But anyway. Let’s try this one more time- once I’m in, I’ll pull you through, alright?”

“Sounds like a plan, sir.” Toast said, crouching down and cupping his hands. Ghost stepped on his hands and braced himself against Toast’s shoulders. “On three-“ Toast said, tensing.

“One-“

“Two-“

“Three!”

Ghost was propelled through the air. He slammed into the side of the house, fingers scrabbling for a hold- 

His left hand curled around the top windowsill. For a moment, he just hung there, trying to catch his breath. Then he knocked the window more open with his right hand, grabbed the windowsill with said right hand, and pulled himself into the house.

He nearly tumbled off the windowsill, catching himself as Toast called up from the ground:

“You alright, sir?”

“I’m good!” He yelled back, looking down. How far from the ground was he? Ten, maybe twenty feet? Not much more than that. If he hung his arm out of the window, and Toast jumped, would he make it?

“Do you have a step stool or something?” He called. “I dunno whether you could jump it.”

“I can jump it.”

“Johnny, I’m fairly certain it’s physically impossible for you to vertically jump that height.”

“I’ll get a running start.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea-“

“Ready, sir?”

Ghost groaned, then squared his shoulders and leaned as far out of the window as he dared. “Not really. Let’s do this!”

Toast took a deep breath, and walked a few yards away from the house. “On-“

“On three, I know, I know. One-“

“Two-“

On three, Toast took off running, closing the distance between him and the house startlingly fast. Johnny almost cried out for him to stop, that he was going to hit the wall- when he jumped.


	9. Yesterday - Chapter Nine - Last Tuesday

The investigators ended up sprawled on top of each other on the ceiling of the attic.

Ghost groaned. “Let’s never do this ever again.”

“Agreed, sir.” Toast said, standing up and rubbing his head before extending his hand and pulling Ghost to his feet. “Now how do you propose we get to the top of the house?”

Ghost was silent for a moment as he looked around the room they were in. Everything that had been on the floor was now scattered around the ceiling. It was mostly boxes. Apparently it had been a storage space-

“Wait a second, Johnny.” Ghost said, snapping his fingers. “Where’s the basement?”

“What do you mean sir?”

“Where’s the basement? It wasn’t pulled out of the ground, or we would have seen it- and there wasn’t any hole in the ground, or, well, we would have seen it. Where did it go?”

Toast thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Perhaps whoever turned the house over took the basement. Some sort of plot?” He pauses for a moment, then continued. “All due respect, what does this have to do with us getting Billy down from the porch?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Just a random thought. We could stack some of these boxes to get up to the trapdoor and onto the second floor.”

“Sounds like a plan, sir.” Toast said, pushing one of his sleeves, which had fallen in the commotion, back up. “Let’s do this as quickly as possible.”

Unfortunately, they weren’t able to move as quickly as they liked. For some reason, most of the boxes were empty. Unable to be used for support. 

Once they had finally found enough boxes to stack up to the trapdoor, Ghost was fuming.

“Why on Earth would they be hoarding empty boxes?”

“I wouldn’t call it hoarding-“

“TWENTY SEVEN EMPTY BOXES, TOAST.”

“Maybe they just took out whatever was in them?”

Ghost grumbled some more, and then began to climb the box stack. He unlatched the trapdoor once he got there, and shoved his shoulder against it.

The second floor was dark, with furniture and decorations strewn about. The investigators climbed onto the ceiling and looked around.

“Do you smell that, sir?” Toast asked.

“Ectoplasm. Whatever did this, it was a ghost.”

“A ghost that would flip over a house and steal a basement...” Toast murmured, pulling out his flashlight and beginning to move forward. 

They moved quickly through the house, stacking furniture next to the staircases to get from floor to floor, finding no sign of whatever had flipped the house over.

They did, however, find a lot of rope. 

Toast looped it around himself, and they continued on.

When they reached the front door, they found it already open, off one of its hinges. Ghost peered out of it, swallowing as he looked at the drop to the ground below. 

In front of them, Billy clung, whimpering, to the porch railing. Although he had managed to hang on for the time it took the investigators to get to him, the railing was beginning to loosen from its holdings, and his hands were beginning to slip.

“Please, help!” He begged, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t wanna die!”

“Can’t you just come ‘back from the dead’?” Ghost asked absently, gesturing for Toast to come forward.

“I mean yeah, but dying from falling hurts a lot, and so does coming back from the dead! It’s not a lot of fun and it takes a lot of energy-“ he screamed as his fingers slipped, and then scrabbles back to where he had been before. “Why are you wasting time and asking questions?! Just help me!”

“That’s what we’re trying to do.” Toast said. “I’ve got this rope tied around my waist, see? So what’s going to happen is I’m going to jump out and get you, and Johnny is going to lower us down to the ground.”

“What if you miss?”

“Then Johnny reels me back in and we try again.”

“What if you miss and I fall?”

“That won’t happen.” Toast said, tugging on the rope to make sure it was secure. “Ready, sir?”

“Ready.” Ghost said, looping and tying the rope around a couch and then grabbing some of the slack. “No counting.”

“No counting?”

“Just go. I’ve got you.”

Toast nodded, and stepped back a little bit from the door. He took a deep breath, and tried to calm down a little bit-

He ran forward, and jumped.


End file.
